Honeycomb
by ZenyattaDoll
Summary: Arthur is a prat and falls ill, Merlin is resigned. Also there's porridge. Update: I have decided to expand this story with a companion chapter that is told from Merlin's POV, though I can't say when it will be done. But I have already started working on it so keep an eye out.


A/N: The timing of this story is meant to be kind of vague and the relationship between Merlin and Arthur is left open to interpretation. Many thanks to my brightly colored fighting fish, The March Hatter. I ams to be not having the goodest grammars or spellings when Ims tuping an she fixxz it. She has re-read this story so many times I'm surprised she didn't chunk something at my head after like the 20th time I asked her to look over it.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the copyright or licensing. Done for personal amusement, no monetary gain was made.

**Honeycomb**

The path under their horses' feet was dappled with the early morning sunlight that streamed through the canopy of trees. The Crowned Prince of Camelot and his Knights were making their way home. They had been woken in the wee hours of the morning to respond to a disturbance no more the ten miles outside of Camelot in one of the villages that supplied the kingdom with its crops. Despite Arthur's protests, Uther had insisted that this issue could not wait.

So, groggy and grumpy, Arthur –along with Elyan, Leon, Percival, Lancelot and Gwaine –rode out to see what the trouble was. From what they had been told by the young farm-hand that had been sent to Camelot by the village leader, there was some sort of wild animal raiding farms under the cover of darkness. It had killed everyone who happened upon it; that was until tonight, when the village leader managed a glimpse of the thing before he and his family escaped their house. Everyone feared that there was another magical beast on the loose. When they arrived, the thing had vanished from the scene, leaving behind only a gigantic set of paw prints that lead into the forest. Arthur Pendragon wasn't one of the best hunters in the kingdom for nothing, however. The prince and his knights caught up with the beast just as the sun began to rise. In the center of a large clearing was perhaps the biggest dog that Arthur had ever seen. It was so large, it could have easily been mistaken for a small bear; its fur was thick, and a deep shade of brown. It didn't take much from Arthur's crossbow to fell the thing where it stood. It became rather obvious that this hound, while it had done quite a bit of damage, was not magical. It was nothing more than a freakishly large, feral dog. Arthur had sent one of the peasants from the town to fetch some of the kingdom's solders to get the dog hauled back to Camelot.

As Arthur and his knights were on their way back, the prince decided to take a shortcut through the woods that backed up on to the royal gardens. As the party emerged from the trees and made their way up the large expanse of lawn, they were greeted by a troop of guards, who relived them of their horses. As the guards pointed the horses towards the stables, Arthur moved in the opposite direction towards the garden pond. The rest of the knights followed his lead.

The sunlight of an early spring morning gleamed off the water's surface. While the upper gardens near to the castle were strictly kept, the lower portion where the great, stone-lined, pond resided, was far wilder. Plants of all shapes, sizes, and colors spilled from the flower beds and up out of the pond; large trees with twisting branches shaded the walk ways. Arthur liked to pass through this part of the gardens whenever his destination allowed for such a detour. He had always enjoyed the lower gardens, especially in his youth. A child's imagination could run wild out here.

"Well, that was anticlimactic." Arthur commented off-handedly, as he sauntered along the edge of the glistening water, admiring the bright golden fish that wound their way through the forest of wreaths and lily pads that edged the pond.

"Sire?" Leon questioned.

"It's just… there was little effort in taking down that hound, and I'm quite bored now. We can't even go to training this morning, since father canceled it just before we left."

"Worried you may get out of practice after just one day?" Gwaine prodded.

"Are you volunteering to be a straw man?" Arthur said, unsheathing his sword and turning to face Sir Gwaine, only to find his sword already drawn and pointing at his chest. The rest of the knights retreated back, forming a circle to enclose the two warriors.

"Seeing how we have the time . . ." Gwaine retorted, cocking an eyebrow. "Who should start?"

"Ladies first." Arthur said, bowing in sarcastic invitation. Gwaine made a sudden lunge with his sword, which the prince easily blocked with his own. They watched each other warily, Arthur began to cautiously circle, with Gwaine mirroring his every step. After about ten paces, Arthur made a lunge of his, only to have Gwaine block him just as effortlessly as he had done him.

"You come a long way from your bar brawling days."

"Well Sire, I would say that you could do with a bit of training in the ways of tavern fighting, but that would be a bit disrespectful." Arthur advanced on Gwaine so suddenly that it took him a bit off guard. The prince's swings were so severe, that Gwaine was sure he had stepped over the line; he was surprised to see a smile on Arthur's face. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were enjoying yourself."

"I get enough lip from Merlin…"Arthur said, as he forced Gwaine to surrender even more ground. The prince's advances were causing Gwaine to, unknowingly, retreat towards the edge of the water. With one last thrust of his sword, Arthur watched as Gwaine, stunned, disappeared below the pond's surface. Fish scattered and the lush plant life completely engulfed the fighter as the water's surface sloshed and swirled.

The prince waited for his knight to reappear and concede, but after nearly a minute passed, Arthur began to wonder if he would have to go in after Gwaine. He approached the pond's edge, hoping to visually locate his knight, but the plant life that thrived in the water choked out any view of Gwaine. A hand suddenly busted out of the roughage of the pond and grabbed a great fistful of Arthur's cape. With an all mighty yank, the prince was dragged into the water, his sword left forcibly abandoned in the spot he once stood.

The rest of the knights all ran to the edge of the pond not sure of what to do. Should they intervene? None of them could even see the two combatants now. Before they could come to a consensus as to what should be done, a great disturbance of bubbles and thrashing sprang up a good distance out into the body of water. Both of the two missing knights sprang up out of the water. After being in the pond for almost two minutes, Arthur and Gwaine were now visible, both panting for air but looking no worse for the wear. Arthur now had Gwaine by the neck. The two had managed to travel out to a much deeper part of the pond; the water was up to their chests now. The prince could have easily force Gwaine back under the water from this position.

"Do you give up?" Arthur panted, as he maintained a firm grip around the other knight's neck.

"No." Gwaine literally choked out. He made one last ditch effort to toss off the prince. Griping Arthur's forearm with both hands Gwaine attempted to throw his weight forward to pull the prince over his head. Arthur saw this however, and kicked Gwaine's footing out from under him, so the force he tried to levy against the prince just rebounded on his own self, and he fell back beneath the surface of the water.

Arthur slammed his fists down on the water in victory. He then turned to the rest of his knights standing on the shore line. Arthur swiped at the water in front of him, directing a big splash of it toward the dry men. The knights all reflexively jumped back to avoid getting soaked even though the spray was nowhere near close enough to reach the shore. The prince was in very good spirits now. Gwaine reemerged from the water after only a few seconds; Arthur rounded on him and splashed more water into his face. This did nothing to diminish the swagger in his smile. Gwaine tossed his long, now sopping, hair out of his face which only served to make him seem more roguish.

"I win." Arthur said.

"Very good, Sire." Gwaine said as he trudged through the pond.

"Best two out of three?"

"No thank you, Sire. You've won; I'd hate to rip your victory away from you." The last bit had a hint of mocking in it. It said that, despite the loss he just suffered, he was confident that he would win if there were to be a round two.

"I swear…" Arthur moaned in disappointment "…you can be just as lazy as Merlin sometimes. No wonder the two of you are the best of friends."

"Indeed. Well I'm off now, for a bath and a nap …If you gentlemen will excuse me." With that, Gwaine pulled himself from the pond, and made his way towards the castle. They all watched him go, his crimson cape pouring water as he went. However, before he'd gone too far, he stopped and turned back towards Arthur.

"You know, as much as you claim that Merlin is nothing but a headache, you sure do lean on him quite a bit."

"Yes well, I suppose he's not completely useless." Arthur mused, absent mindedly, as he watched where he was placing his footsteps in the silt of the pond, wading his way back to where he had dropped his sword.

"It's a bit more than that; there is something different about him." Arthur looked up at Gwaine, at these words.

"How do you figure that?" he said skeptically.

"He seems to bring everyone around him a great deal of luck, you in particular. I think there is someone looking out for you and they sent you Merlin."

"Well, if you find them, you can tell that thank you, but I would like to return the gift." Gwaine scoffed at this.

"Ha! I doubt you could even survive the morning without him." And with that Gwaine strolled off with one last casual wave over his shoulder. Arthur was left staring, a bit bewildered, after him. After a moment, Leon turned back towards the prince and reached out to him.

"Do you need a hand, Sire?"

"No, Leon, I'm fine." Arthur said. He began back to the edge of the bank again, but stopped, when a small movement out of the corner of his eye stole his attention. Arthur turned to see that Merlin was way on the other side of the rectangular pond, and he appeared to not have noticed their presence. "Speak of the devil." Arthur said more to himself than to his men.

He was acting a bit peculiar. Merlin seemed to be looking rather intently for something near the roots of a large willow tree. Arthur watched as Merlin searched the ground, picking up things and discarding them just as quickly. Then he seemed to find something of interest, because he crouched down, pulled a small book out of his pocket, and began to consult it.

"Sire?"

Arthur watched as Merlin thumbed through the volume, found the proper page, and began to study it. Merlin bit his bottom lip as he read, alternating his attention between the object on the ground and the book in his hand.

"Your Highness?"

A small breeze blew the pages and after swatting his hair away from his eyes, Merlin smoothed the pages back down. He then smiled, closed the book, placed it back into his pocket, and moved to pick up the object in question as he stood back up.

"Sire?!"

"What!?" Arthur responded irritably, turning back to see who was demanding his attention.

"What are you staring at, Sire?" Elyan asked, with a concerned look on his face.

"Merlin." The prince said simply, as he turned back to continue watching his servant. Elyan and the rest of the remaining knights also turned to look at Merlin now.

"May I ask why?" Elyan questioned without looking back at Arthur.

"Because…" Arthur said, in a slightly annoyed tone "… he is acting a bit odd."Barely a second after the prince said this Merlin, still fixated on the thing he'd found, tripped over a root of the willow tree and nearly fell to the ground. Arthur's face went flat.

"Nevermind." Arthur said, in an exasperated voice, turning back to the shore.

"Poor thing…" Leon commented "…such a clumsy fool."

"Yes, but he's my clumsy fool." Arthur agreed, with the tiniest drop of defensiveness. He reached up and brushed the damp hair from his eyes so he could see the cobblestone edge of the embankment properly as he braced himself. "Let's just pray he doesn't. . ." Arthur began, but froze as he made to get out. Then a rather mischievous smile curled across his face and he sank back down into the water. Even though the water level was just below his hips, he bent himself down so that the water was up to his neck. With one meaningful glace back up to his knights, he started to creep along the edge of the pond, heading in Merlin's direction. Arthur turned back and jerked his head towards Merlin, after none of the men had moved follow the prince. Elyan sighed.

"I guess we need to go distract Merlin." He said, resigned, stooping down to grab the prince's sword, before starting in Merlin's direction.

-o-0-o-

"Hey Merlin!"

Merlin looked up from where he was kneeling by the edge of a patch of lily pads consulting his little book again. He greeted the approaching men with a warm smile.

"I thought you lot had been sent out to help a village? The king said you probably wouldn't be back 'till the afternoon."

"Yes, well the threat was less formidable than we were led to believe. It was just a big, wild, hound." Percival provided casually, as he leaned on the trunk of the willow.

"That sounds like an easy trip."

"It was, but I'm curious as to what you're doing." Elyan asked.

"Guias sent me to look for herbs and plants to refill the medicine supply. Some of the things we need only bloom in early spring. No sense in buying them if they can be found for free." Merlin suddenly looked about "Where's Arthur and Gwaine, aren't they supposed to be with you?"

"Oh, um…" Lancelot piped up "… Gwaine went straight back up to the castle and Arthur is… well he is ah… a little bogged down right now." Leon let slip a snort of laughter. When Merlin looked to him he faked another, more coughish, snort.

"Sorry, have a bit of a head cold, changing weather an all that."

"That's not good, I'll go to Guias for you, see if I can get you something for your throat." Merlin turned back to Lancelot. "What do you mean he's bogged down, I don't under…" Merlin was unable to finish that thought. All of a sudden, a strong force behind him encircled his arms and waist, and dragged him back until he was plunged under the water. The pond was ice cold. The shock stole Merlin's breath and he was so surprised he couldn't struggle. As suddenly as he was pulled down, Merlin was being lifted back up to the surface. Breaking back through the top of the water, Merlin gasped for air and after two life giving breaths, he turned to kick whatever it was as hard as he could in its midriff. The sudden sound of grunt of pain, and very familiar laughter shifted his panic into anger.

"ARTHUR, YOU PRAT!" Merlin practically screamed at the top of his voice, as he pulled himself from the water.

"You can't call me that."

"Why would you… that water is freezing… why are you even in there, get out, you're going to catch your death!?"

Arthur chuckled as he finally pulled himself out of the water. Even though he had just played a somewhat mean spirited trick on Merlin, he was still concerned about Arthur's safety.

"Yeah, sure, go ahead and laugh." Merlin commented, as he started to strip off his saturated brown jacket and red neckerchief. He tried to ring out what water he could, but it did little good. Arthur watched as Merlin used both of his hands to smooth back his hair and tried to slow his breathing. His shirt clung to his lean chest and stomach as they rose and fell rapidly.

'_Was he really that shaken up?'_ Arthur could feel a wave of regret rushing into his gut. He didn't like it, he should never feel regret. A king that regrets is a king that falls, at least, that's what his father had always told him. Arthur's posture suddenly stiffened up, his light-heartedness dissipating as the gravity of the fact that he was the crowned prince reappeared on his shoulders.

"Go up and run me a bath. I have things to get done and I don't what to be waiting around for you." Arthur said this more sharply than he meant to. Again, the prince felt another rush of regret flood in on top of the first. Arthur hadn't meant to be so harsh with Merlin. Being mean to him rarely got you anywhere; if anything it only made him more obstinate. And sure enough…

"You're just going to have to wait, 'Sire'. The King wanted me to keep out of trouble while you were gone today, so he charged me with helping Guias for the rest of the morning. I'll be up whenever Guias relives me. If you have a problem with it, go take it up with the King." Merlin snapped.

No going back now.

"You can't talk that way to me!"

"I just did, and I'm still doing it!"

"I should have you flogged for such back-talk."

"Go ahead; it'll be a nice change from the stocks!" Merlin growled.

"Don't test me; you could do with a few manners being knocked into you." Merlin made a derisive huff.

"Ha! You don't have the heart to do that…"

"Why would I care? You're just another peasant, who happens to be my servant." Arthur said without thinking.

"No…" Merlin's tone was even "… I'm your friend; I just wish that sometimes you would return the favor."

"What makes you think you're worthy of my favor?"

There was nothing but silence at these words. Merlin took a steadying breath; Arthur actively avoided meeting his eyes, not wanting to see the hurt he was sure to find there.

Without another word Merlin stormed back over to where he had dropped his plant guide and satchel of herbs, snatched them up and walked off. He also grabbed his sopping jacket off the ground as he passed back by Arthur, heading off towards the forest. Arthur wanted to stop him, but he doubted that anything he had to say would work.

Arthur watched as Merlin shrank into the distance. His mood had taken a one hundred and eighty degree turn from the elation he was feeling not more than ten minutes ago, and he had no one to blame but himself. The prince looked about for his knights, suddenly remembering that they were just there. Looking about he saw that that they had retreated off into the shade of the next willow down, no doubt wanting to stay out of the way of his fight with Merlin. Arthur wondered vaguely if any of them had laughed when he pulled Merlin in; the thought of them laughing stirred his contempt.

They were cautiously watching to see if it was safe to approach him. He glared over at them, making it blatant that he wanted to be left alone. They moved off, and the prince turned to head back to the castle, aiming to go back to his room and sulk until Merlin decided to show up. He had not taken more than two steps when he glanced over and saw Merlin's neckerchief still on the ground. He must have overlooked it when he stalked off. The prince bent down and snatched it up. He didn't think it should be his job to care if it got lost, but he legs refused to move at the thought of leaving the thing behind.

In the corridors he unfortunately ran into Morgana and Gwen. They both took in his wet state, and Morgana made to say something, whether it was to ask what happened, or to make a smart remark, Arthur didn't know or care. Before she could take a breath to say anything...

"Not one word. I'm not in the mood." He hissed at the girls and stalked passed them, without so much as a sideward glance.

Arriving to his room, Arthur observed that Merlin, of course, was not there. There was, however, a lively fire burning in the hearth. Merlin, no doubt, had been up to keep the fire healthy. It may have been early spring, but it still became very cold at night, and castles in general, being made out of stone, needed to be heated regularly to keep them livable, regardless of the time of year. More guilt. Arthur needed to get out of his wet cloths, but this was difficult, seeing how getting in and out of armor and chainmail by himself was challenging at best. He tossed Merlin's neckerchief on to the corner of his bed and got to work removing his armor.

After several long minutes of struggling, he managed to get it all off, and then went to dig about in his wardrobe until he found something comfortable that wasn't his night attire. After Arthur had finished dressing, he felt a sudden wave of exhaustion. His hair was still damp, but at least the room was warm. He just needed to lie down. Arthur threw himself across his bed, '_if anyone needs me, they'll come find me_,' he thought to himself as he rolled on to his side. The prince caught sight of Merlin's stupid neckerchief again; he stretched out to hold it once more. Arthur considered the piece of cloth while turning Gwaine's words over in his mind. So he wasn't the only one who noticed something different in Merlin. There was more to Merlin than first met the eye it would seem.

'_Oh don't be an idiot...'_ Arthur thought to himself _'…he's nothing more than a poor excuse for a manservant and the only thing different about him is the fact that he was stupid enough to challenge the son of the King. The only reason you keep him around is because his back talk is mildly amusing.' _

'_That's a lie.' _Another part of his brain chimed in, Arthur didn't want to admit it, but he did find Merlin's blatant disregard for his authority to be a nice change of pace. Even though the prince was outraged at first by Merlin's flagrant disrespect, Arthur had come to rely on Merlin's honesty. The prince knew he could count on his faithful servant to tell him the truth when everyone else around him might not.

Arthur sighed and rolled over onto his other side, neckerchief still clutched in his hand. The sun was starting to shine through his window and he didn't want the light to disturb his cat nap.

-o-0-o-

When Arthur awoke, he felt very groggy and heavy and could sense that he was not lying in the same position that he had started in. He could hear people talking and movement around him. The light streaming in through his window was dim. _'It must be near sundown.'_ He laid there trying to force his brain to de-fog. Finally, he could make out Guias' face as he sat next to his bed, feeling the prince's pulse via his wrist. _'Oh hell, I must be sick. Why else would Guias be here?'_ The rest of his room came in to focus. When Guias noticed prince was awake he smiled fondly at him.

"Your fever must be waning."

"When was it waxing?" Arthur said, in a croaky voice. Guias just chuckled.

"Merlin, go get His Majesty." Guias called over his shoulder. Arthur heard a door close.

"Merlin? Where is he?" Arthur made to sit up, but his strength was drained by his illness and, with little effort on the physician's part, Guias pushed him back down onto his pillows.

"Relax, Merlin will be right back, don't you worry." Guias comforted as he ran a wash cloth over Arthur's forehead. True to his word, Merlin was quick to re-appear in the prince's door way with the king close on his heels. Arthur hoped he didn't look as bad as his father did; Uther had great dark circles under his eyes, and looked more strained than his son had ever seen him.

"How are you feeling?" The king asked, as he took Guias' seat by his son's bedside.

"Uh…" Arthur thought about lying to ease his father's worry, but he was still too tired to even lie. "…like lead." Uther felt his son's cheek. Arthur closed his eyes again and exhaled as contently as he could while being this sick.

"You!" Arthur opened his eyes again, confused as to whom his father was directing his anger at. It became apparent, as he saw that the king had Merlin backed against a wall. This was not what he needed right now.

"How could you let him get sick like this? Morgana said she saw him drenched yesterday, and he didn't come down for lunch or dinner. Didn't his lack of interest in food tell you anything? Why did you not inform anyone of his condition sooner?"

"I… I didn't want to wake him when I came to get him for lunch, because I thought…" Merlin stammered.

"Your highness, these things cannot be predicted." Guias tried, but the King seemed beyond reason.

"Enough! There will be consequences for allowing this to happen…" Arthur's head was spinning, but the one thing he could follow was that Uther was shouting at Merlin.

"Stop! Just stop! I swear." Everyone in the room froze "This is not his fault, I was sparring with Gwaine and we ended up in the pond. Merlin told me to get out, I didn't listen, end of tale."

"Son, don't try to protect…"

"Out!" Arthur shouted, using the last of his strength to prop himself up onto his elbows.

"Excuse me?" Uther looked as though he had just been slapped in the face with a dead fish.

"Guias, am I still dying?" Arthur said looking over to the physician.

"Your fever has broken your highness, but you will still need looking after." Guias said, hazarding half-a-glance towards the King.

"Fine, everyone but Merlin, get out."

"But son…!"

"OUT! Please, I need peace." Arthur said his frustration dissolving into weariness as he collapsed back on to his pillows.

Uther seemed as though he wanted to argue, but after a moment he relented. He swallowed and nodded stiffly, turning without another word to leave his son's chambers, Guias following close behind. Merlin didn't move from where the king had cornered him.

"Merlin, what time is it?"

"Nearly dawn."

"Dawn? I was asleep the whole day?"

"Almost." Merlin still made no effort to move. This irritated the prince; he wanted to be able to see his face when they were speaking.

"Come here." Arthur demanded. Obediently, Merlin came to sit in the chair Guias and the King had once occupied. "What happened?"

"Well, you fell asleep when you came up to change after playing in the pond. When I came by to see if you wanted lunch, you gave me an incoherent answer, rolled over, and fell back asleep. So I pulled your bed covers over you and decided you should sleep because of your early morning. When I came up to get you prepared for dinner, you were still asleep. When I tried to get you up I could feel that you were turning warm, so I went to get Guias and we've been working to control your fever ever since."

"What's wrong with me?"

"Guias thinks you have the flu."

"Can't it be just a bad cold?"

"You don't vomit when you have a cold."

"I threw up?"

"Yep, several times." Merlin said matter-of-factly, staring at the stitching of Arthur's comforter. Arthur had nothing to say to this; too disturbed by what could have possibly happened during the time his mind was glazed over with exhaustion and illness.

"You don't remember anything that happened last night?" Arthur looked over at Merlin and shook his head.

"No, the last thing I can recall clearly is falling asleep." Merlin looked a little bit relived when the prince said this. "Why?" Arthur asked, curious.

"Oh, um… I was worried we had disturbed you with all our coming and going, we constantly jostled you during our care last night. You needed to rest, but we kept bothering you. I was worried you would be mad with us when you woke up." Arthur was not completely satisfied with this answer, but he decided to leave it alone.

They sat in heavy silence for who knew how long. Merlin, finally unable to bare it anymore, stood. "Well I'm off to get you some breakfast. You sit tight, don't get out of bed. Guias will have my head if I let you wander about."

"Alright." Was the only thing the prince could think to say to this, but then, "Merlin?"

"Yes, Sire?" Merlin turned to face Arthur just as he made to leave the prince's chambers.

"I would never have you harmed as punishment for anything." Arthur said his eyes fixated on the far wall.

Merlin's grip on the door handle tighten but his eyes softened. "I know." Merlin said reassuringly just before he shut Arthur's chamber door. With that Arthur relaxed back into his pillows. His head was throbbing and though his guilt was somewhat quailed, it still ebbed at the edge of his mind. The prince wondered if Guias had given him something to curb his pain, because, while he felt the ache of sickness, everything seemed dulled. Arthur reached up above his head in order to readjust his pillows but as he reached underneath them his hand brushed against a material that was rougher than his normally soft sheets. He pulled it out and, low and behold, it was Merlin's neckerchief. Arthur wondered how it got under his pillow, but more importantly wondered what he should do with it. Eventually the prince opened his night stand draw and tossed it in, deciding he would wait until Merlin said something.

By the time Merlin had come back, the sun had fully risen. He carried the usual tray, but instead of the normal plate there was a steaming bowl. It took a second for one and one to make two.

"Oh no, Guias didn't tell you to give me . . ." This was the first time since the pond prank that Merlin cracked his usual goofy grin.

"Yep." Merlin responded simply.

"Ugh, not porridge." No wonder, Merlin was smiling at his pain. Guias always made him eat porridge when he was under the weather. He claimed it was 'good for him.' Arthur claimed it was a form of abuse. Arthur might have compared it to eating mud, but the prince thought that was too kind of a comparison for the tastelessness that was porridge. Arthur simply detested the peasant dish.

"Just be glad Guias didn't make it, if he had it would be stone cold."

"What makes you say that?" It had been a while since he was forced to eat the stuff.

"Because it's what he makes us every morning." Arthur suddenly felt infinite sympathy for his servant. Then a thought crossed his mind.

"If he didn't make it, then who did?" Merlin smiled again. "Don't tell me."

"Yeah, I made it."

"Dear God, tell me you're not trying to get me back for yesterday."

"I wouldn't mess with your food to get back at you." Merlin said with all honesty. "Besides, I think getting sick from flopping about in the pond is punishment enough." Merlin placed the tray on Arthur's bedside table as he adjusted the prince's pillows, so he could sit up with their assistance. He then placed the tray in his lap. It certainly looked different than what he remembered of Guias'. Instead of the usual cloudy grey, it was a golden color with what looked like bits of apple in it. Despite this, Arthur was still apprehensive. He spooned some up and let it fall back into the bowl.

"Stop being so picky, you haven't even tried it yet." Merlin commented over his shoulder as he scuttled about Arthur's room, trying to clean the mess from the previous night of medical treatment.

"Do you not know anything about me?" Merlin sighed at this.

"I'll go talk to Guias to see if there is anything else I can give you. I need to take these blankets and towels down to the laundry anyway. In the meantime, eat your toast." Merlin ordered. Arthur cracked a grin, picked up the crunchy bun, and took a hardy bite from it. This seemed to pacify his servant, because he left after Arthur swallowed the mouthful. At least the bread wasn't half bad, it was more than just the butter, it kind of had a vaguely sweet taste. Arthur still eyed the bowl of steaming mush. It was hot, and he had to admit that this probably was an improvement from Guias' cooking. Arthur contemplated the risk vs. reward of trying the dish. On one hand it wouldn't hurt him if he tried it. The most he had to endure was a mouth full of bland tasteless mash. It would also make Merlin happy. But on the other hand, it would make Merlin happy, and it could give him an opportunity to gloat about being right if he liked it.

Arthur eyed the half eaten piece of toast and looked back at the bowl. He decided that his curiosity was too great to do nothing, plus he still had the toast to cleanse his palate if it was disgusting. Arthur picked up the spoon and scooped up a mouthful, and, to his surprise, the warm taste of butter and honey filled his mouth. Arthur was taken-aback; the castle had run out of honey way back in December. By the time Merlin returned, the oatmeal was long gone the last bits had been sopped up by the toast.

"Where did you get honey?"

"What? Oh, so you tried the porridge, that's good, because Guias said that you couldn't have anything else." Merlin said with a bright smile.

"You didn't answer my question." Arthur grumbled.

"I got it from where all honey comes, a honey bee hive." Arthur rolled his eyes at the smart answer.

"There isn't anyone who farms honey within miles of the castle."

"I got it from a wild hive." Merlin came to sit next to the prince after setting down the pile of clean, folded, sheets he had brought back with him. He pulled a squat little spherical jar from his pocket and held it out to Arthur. It was small enough to fit perfectly in one's grip, and it held four, one inch-cubes of honey comb. Merlin handed Arthur the jar. The inside was covered in the sticky golden goo; a puddle of the stuff had formed on the bottom of the jar.

"How? They swarm most people if they come within a twenty foot radius of the colony."

"Not if you don't agitate them. They usually don't mind if you take a little bit." Merlin said as he leaned on his crossed arms, which were propped up on the edge of Arthur's bed. He was admiring the jar now, in Arthur's hand.

"And how did you come about the knowledge of how to pacify swarming bees?" Arthur questioned as he dropped the hand holding the jar from the sunlight to look at his companion.

"The lord of our village liked having honey at his disposal, so he had on staff an old couple that kept his colony of honey bees. In the late summer they would need extra help to collect the honey, so to get spare money, my mother would take me up to the estate and we'd spend about a two weeks helping with the harvest. After several summers, I started to pick up on the ins and outs of honey. That's also how my mother and I learned to read and write. My mother was taught by the bee keeper's wife so she could help make labels and keep the books, she in turn taught me." Arthur didn't know why, but this small bit of information about Merlin's education saddened him.

Merlin and he were from such vastly different social classes, but here he was just as brave and smart (if not more so) as any noble he knew, and yet, as the crown prince, he was required to look down on him because was born a peasant. Peasants usually had little to no rights in the face of a noble or royalty. Being a servant to the prince did afford Merlin with some protection, but this mattered little when it came to the king and even sometimes the prince himself.

"Arthur, are you feeling alright? Your fever hasn't spiked back up has it?" Merlin pressed a cold wrist up against the prince's forehead.

"I'm fine Merlin; I think I'm just tired." Arthur said as he pushed him off.

"At least you're keeping the oatmeal down."

"It helps when it doesn't have the consistency of snot." Merlin smile at this.

"My mom use to make the same thing for me when I was sick. My mom always said honey is the best medicine. For a long time, I thought she just used it as an excuse to spoil me when I was feeling bad, but Guias said it actually does have some medicinal benefits. Imagine that."

"Imagine that." Arthur echoed as he handed the honey jar back to Merlin, but he just set it down on the prince's night stand. "Keep it; it helps coughs and upset stomachs." Arthur was contemplative.

"How hard is it to start a hive in order to harvest honey?"

"Um, I don't really know, I've never tried. I think the upkeep is the real hard part but… Wait, no… NO!"

"Why not? The kingdom would have access to all the honey it would ever need."

"Because, I'm already a physician's apprentice and a full time 'babysitter', I don't need honey bees added to my list of duties."

"Fine, it was just a passing thought; you probably couldn't do it any ways." Arthur said as he gave his servant a sideways glance.

"Nope." Merlin agreed firmly, hopping up out of his seat next to Arthur's bed. He pushed the chair back into place against the far wall. Merlin then returned to Arthur's bedside. "You should get some rest." This wasn't a suggestion; Merlin readjusted the prince's bedding so he could lie back down. "I'm going to leave you alone so you can get to sleep but I'll be in an out to check on you." Merlin said, as he drew the curtains to dim Arthur's room. After his manservant had quietly pulled his chamber door shut, Arthur turned back to look at the little jar with the honey comb in it. The little light that still entered the room through the small part in the curtains caught the honey perfectly, making it shine like gold. The prince leaned over and opened his bedside drawer, taking out Merlin's neckerchief again. He ran the material over his fingers thinking, wondering if his father would ever want honey badly enough to give his servant a servant.


End file.
